CHAPTER 443: CHAPTER 441: JIANG CITY’S BELLE

Fu Jinghen furrowed his brows tightly, "Don’t talk nonsense."

Wen Qiao looked at Fu Jinghen’s rather serious expression and realized that he had barely spoken since they entered the hospital room.

She turned off her cell phone, tilted her head, and leaned even closer to his hand.

"Why so serious? I’m fine, just had a fall, a slight knock on my back. The doctor said I just need to lie in bed for a couple of days and get some massages."

She reached out her hand to smooth the frown lines between Fu Jinghen’s eyebrows. "You look like you’ve lost a wife, not knowing people might think someone died."

When Fu Jinghen heard that word slip from Wen Qiao’s lips, he instinctively started to frown again, but her finger pressing between his brows stopped him.

"Frowning again, you know frowning can cause wrinkles, right? You’re almost in your thirties; if you frown more, you’ll age even faster."

Wen Qiao used two fingers to part his furrowed brows, "There’s already a big age gap between the two of us, and you don’t manage your expressions well—always frowning. If we walk down the street, people might think you’re my dad."

"That suits you just fine," Fu Jinghen took her hand down and held it in his: "When I’m all wrinkly and old, won’t I make you look even younger and prettier?"

"That won’t do," Wen Qiao said, "I care about appearances. If you grow old and ugly while I’m still beautiful, I might feel you don’t match up with me anymore, then I really would have to find some young, fresh meat."

No sooner had she spoken than her hand was pinched.

"Find who?"

"Nobody, nobody," Wen Qiao quickly corrected, smoothly adapting her stance: "Our Uncle Fu, even when old, is still Jiang City’s belle, unmatched by anyone. By then, we’ll be the classic case of an old husband with a young wife."

Wen Qiao even imagined that scenario—

Fu Jinghen with white hair and a face showing the marks of time, his figure slightly more plump compared to now, while she remains a youthful and unbeatable beauty. As they walked out, others would say, "That man must be really rich, otherwise, she wouldn’t be with him."

Thinking about it made her laugh.

"What are you laughing at?"

Wen Qiao reined in her laughter and shook her head: "Nothing."

His gaze fell on Wen Qiao’s somewhat pale lips, his fingertips grazing them, "Does it hurt?"

"You asking that is a silly question, of course, it hurts. I’m tender, but a kiss from you might just make it hurt less."

Wen Qiao pouted her lips and blinked at him.

"....."

Fu Jinghen’s eyes deepened, "Stop messing around, this is a hospital."

"What about it? This is a private room."

Wen Qiao freed her hand from Fu Jinghen’s grasp, grabbed his tie with a gentle tug that brought him close.

Fu Jinghen, mindful of her waist, stood up from the chair as soon as her hand touched his tie.

His hands steadied on either side of Wen Qiao as he looked down at her.

Only inches separated them.

Wen Qiao slightly raised her head, and their lips touched.

A quiet ’pop’ echoed in the serene hospital room.

"You see, why put on an act? You were quite happy kissing me secretly on the bus before—hey, why are your ears red?"

Wen Qiao, as if she had discovered something grand, raised her hand to pinch his ear.

Fu Jinghen feigned calmness, "You’re seeing things."

"I’m not," Wen Qiao widened her eyes, "My vision is 20/20."

"......"

"You’re just shy," Wen Qiao continued to tease, "Why so shy when I am not? Why is your skin so thin?"